Vision of Twin Jokers
by FMA-YGOfangirl
Summary: The man before him was like a darker, gruffer version of him. It almost made him laugh. Almost. (My thoughts on what would happen if Heath Ledger's Joker met Mark Hamil's Joker) Rated for Blood, Assault, and minor allusions to Sexual situations and Child abuse. Read at your own risk.


The Joker, clad in his signature purple suit and yellow flower, stared at the man across from him in mild amusement. The man before him wore a tailored purple suit, much like his own, but the style seemed to be more of a cross between flamboyant student aid and an equally flamboyant business man, and no flower, but unlike his naturally – or unnaturally, given the fact that he knew that he had been modified by that vat of chemicals, which was a constant in his ever shifting past – white skin, black lips and equally black eyes, chemically modified grin, and emerald green hair the man before him was normal.

Well, normal as one can be, with his face smeared with greasy war paint to the style of a demented clown; the white that covered most of his face was worn away at the wrinkles on his forehead and cheekbones, the black paint was completely enveloping his deep set eyes and leaking into the wrinkles around them, and red paint smudged and scraped into a smile; and scars at the corners of his mouth, making it open wider in a chilling grin even though he isn't grinning with the oily, scraggly, dark green-colored hair that had screamed hair dye was just the icing on the cake. The man before him was like a darker, gruffer version of him.

It almost made him laugh.

_Almost_.

The other was staring at him just as intently, his eyes calculating and cold, much like his, with swirls of madness and sheer craziness, also much like his… or at least his victims said so. Calling him unnatural, monstrous, a demon, and weird; to be honest, they were the weird ones, not him. And fools too, thinking of themselves as "Higher beings" because they're "Civilized". The Joker sighed dramatically and slumped slightly, raising an eyebrow at the stranger with a frown on his face,

"You just going to stand there and gawk or are you actually going to be worth my time?" He looked at his watch impatiently, "I've got some dinner plans with Batsy and the rest of Gotham, and I don't want to be late for the show." He said, a touch of a grin his lips as he went over the plan in his head for tonight's fun; screaming women, bloodcurdling falls, and bone-breaking jokes; oh my, indeed.

The stranger just stared a little longer before leaning back and sticking his hands in his pockets, contemplating. The Joker gave a huff, seeing as this guy wasn't going to contribute to the conversation, so why not draw him in by asking how he got his grin? Though, before the words left his mouth, the stranger's voice came flooding through the room.

"You wanna know how I got these scars?" The Joker grinned,

"I was just about to ask that; please, go on." He said with a flick of his hand, mirroring the other, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms.

The stranger pulled a knife from his pocket, opened it, and began twirling it in intricate patterns, "You see, when I was about five years old I had these _loving_ parents and a _sweet_ little sister –only a year younger than me – that I'd do anything for. We were happy. Then one day, while we were heading home from the movies, a man – a_ drunk_," the stranger sneered, "Who had had a little too much to drink that night drove home; he was so drunk that he fell asleep behind the wheel, and slammed into the side of our _little_ car. Mommy and Daddy were dead before help could arrive, and my little sister was _crying_ the whole time, begging our parents to _wake up_… but I knew better…"

The Joker watched intently as the stranger did a little flip with his knife, catching it by the handle and pausing for a moment, though if he was stopping because the memories were too painful or not, he didn't know. The stranger resumed his knifemanship as he continued with his story.

"… After we were released from the hospital we were sent to into an Orphanage. We didn't have any other family but ourselves, so I kept my sister close. But, not close _enough_, because she disappeared, then reappeared on the News as the latest victim of a _serial_ _pedophile_. She survived _physically_, of course, but she wasn't my _little sister_ anymore. As we grew up in the Orphanage she turned into a little _Harlot_, opening her legs for anyone with an inkling. Then, finally one day, a guy she had banged before told her if she didn't _stop_, he'd do something _drastic_…"

The stranger sat up from his place on the wall and began pacing, all the while throwing and playing with his little switchblade, the story so far was quite amusing to the Joker; he could see what was coming next from a mile away.

"Of course, she didn't. So, one night I was woken up at the _wee_ hours of the morning, as rough hands pulled me up from my bed and dragged me outside and through this forest that edged the back of the Orphanage. We stop at this little clearing with a tree in the middle of it and there was my _dear_ sister, tied up to it and completely _terrified_."

The Joker noted the mad grin on the strangers face, making him grin as well, "He said, 'I _told_ you I'd do something if you didn't stop, but do you _listen_?' She began crying, telling him she was _so sorry_ and _begged_ him not to hurt me. Though, he didn't listen. He beat the living _crap_ out of me, breaking a few of my ribs and my left arm, then he pulled out a knife put _these_," the gestured to the scars, "On my face, and then he goes to her with the knife, _grinning_, but what he doesn't realize is that _I've got his gun_…"

The Joker was really grinning now; this story was getting _good_, "So, when he took the knife to her, _laughing_ as he was carving her face; I got up, held the gun in my hand, and at that moment my sister _yells_ at me to shoot him. The guy looks at me, I point the gun at him, and smile saying, '_Why so serious?_'" The stranger imitated the shooting with his knife, with a dramatized _bwoom_, "Then I look at my _darling little_ sister, her face in ribbons, point the gun at her, grinning as what's left of her face is streaked with horror and say," The stranger grinned as he look back at the Joker, madness just rolling off him like waves. He _really_ liked this guy!

"_Let's put a smile on that face!_" He and The Joker at that point busted out laughing, like the funniest joke in the entire world had been wrapped up with the most hilarious thought conceived and presented on the silver platter that is pure comedy. The Joker wiped at his eyes as tears rolled down,

"Now THAT was funny!" He let out a few more chuckles, "Tell me, who are you, my good sir?" he really wanted to know, because such a personality like the stranger before him should have a name, and if it didn't fit he'd give him a better one.

"I really don't have a name… I'm more of a nameless Agent of _Chaos_." The stranger said with a grin, "The name isn't important; it's all about _the message_." Oh, now he _really, really, _liked this guy. But still, he needs a name.

"Hmm, while that may be true, I think you should still have a name… Ooh! What about, 'Jack the Agent of Chaos'. Actually no, that's kind ripping off Jack the Ripper." The Joker chuckled,

"I see what you did there." The stranger sad with a wicked smile,

The Joker bowed, "Why thank you! I have been waiting for a long time to use that one! Now…" The Joker sat up and rubbed his chin, turning around and viewing the stonework of the underground basement he was in, wondering what kind of name would fit that character behind him…

"Hmm… Well, we could always call you Trickster but that seems a little too close to Joker… Larry would be a terrible idea… Loki?" The Joker paused for a moment, staring blankly into the air, turning to look the stranger up and down before scrunching his nose in disgust, "Nah, too obvious that's an off shoot of Trickster which is too obvious an off shoot of Joker…" he turned back around and started to pace, turning names over and around in his head, all the while the stranger just leaned against the wall, waiting for The Joker to make up his mind.

The stranger was in fact Joker, though he'd never say that aloud, knowing himself to have a nasty temper his counterpart would more than likely have it too. And the fact that since he himself was an Agent of Chaos his counterpart was as well, so he was just as unpredictable. But, he had to say, the other truly _was_ kind of a freak, and that was saying something coming from _him_.

The guy currently pacing and muttering to himself looked more like a demented clown than he did; the smooth tailored purple suit with a yellow flower pinned to his collar was more businesslike than his own attire, black and white shoes that looked like they belonged in a 1920's ballroom, greased back green hair, black lips and equally black eyes that at one moment looked like an endless abyss and at another a hard wall of black stone, and the most peculiar thing of all was his skin; _pure white_. And this all wasn't make up either, having to apply his batch on himself, he knew the difference between real skin and make up... and this guy had actual _white skin_.

Joker silently wondered; how in the _world_ did his skin to get that color?

His counterpart sighed, his shoulders slumped in an almost cartoony way, "Oh well, I guess can't come up with a name; _Agent of Chaos_ it is, though I'd still prefer something with fewer syllables…" Joker shrugged,

"Again, the name doesn't matter; it's the _message_ that counts."

His counterpart looked up at him with a ghost of a grin, "And what message is that?"

The Joker smirked, "_Sanity_ is like gravity; it's not constant throughout the universe, and all it takes is a little _push_… just _one bad day_ and… well, you get us." The other Joker grinned,

"Now _that_ is what I like to hear."

* * *

**I spent an entire afternoon is these guy's head, which wasn't pleasant. At all. Favorite villain, yes. Mind warpingly crazy to the point where I nearly went crazy? Most definitely... Thank you Tom Hiddleston and your time with the Cookie monster, it made me feel all fuzzy inside again after that particularly dark afternoon.**

**So, how did I do? I really don't feel too confident about it; I feel like there should have been more talking between them but I couldn't for the life of me think of anything... maybe because I wanted to get out of their heads as quickly as possible, either way, I hope I did them both justice. Please leave me a review and tell me how I did!**


End file.
